


Witch of Mind: Make a Choice

by chucklingChemist



Series: Sgrub Snippets [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Original Denizen, Pallia Alkali, SGRUB, Witch of Mind - Freeform, denizen, fan character, fantroll, the choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 21:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucklingChemist/pseuds/chucklingChemist
Summary: The Witch of Mind approaches her Denizen. Her Choice is simple. Harsh. But at the end of the night, there's only one option.





	Witch of Mind: Make a Choice

You must admit, it was hard to wrap your head around your denizen at first.

She was a monster, you were told. A monster of massive proportions, bigger than you could even begin to perceive. She took the steps necessary to stop the power plants on your land, leaving them unable to release anything aside from the intermittent sparks that opened and closed doors without your knowing. You needed her to rectify the mistake. Release the magpies. Break the glass ceiling. And somehow, somehow, reason with a monster that by all accounts couldn’t be reasoned with. At least, you were going to reason with her, no matter what your consorts suggested. You were a Mind player. Reasoning is in your blood.

(There was also the matter of disbelief you held towards what the consorts said and your general dislike of fighting, but that was a different matter entirely.)

Nevertheless, your imagination couldn’t have possibly readied you for what you actually encountered.

You had no struggle to your approach to her. No underlings to melt. No puzzles to solve. No trying to deduce where the maze would take you. The last power plant had let out its final burst of energy, switching the walls to give you straight access to the seventh gate and straight to the temple. _Her_ temple.

The temple of Mnemosyne.

She knows, logically, you would come. You know, logically, you would have to arrive. So here you walk, footsteps echoing down a green, dimly lit hallway filled with the faint buzz of barely functional electricity. You walk, gazing upon expertly crafted mosaics of your Land embedded in the walls. Electric wires interweave, creating paths in the mosaic that you realize are maps through every iteration you’ve observed of the maze, from the Faraday cage holding your hive to the temple now. It’s a shame you’ve already mapped it out yourself; these would have been useful.

You put all your weight against a set of metallic double doors and push them open. The hallway opens up to a endless room. Hazy green lights pulse erratically inside, and you nearly miss the intricate, teal snake that wraps around the archway. As you follow the coiled snake with your eyes, you find….nothing. The teal color fades into a clean white, but stops at the wall before it finishes. Looking inside from the outside answers nothing either, as the green haze clouds your vision.

You take your first steps. Immediately upon entering the chamber, the light disappears. You now know why your consorts described the denizen as a beast. Despite her tight coiled shape, you feel like a mere footnote in her colossal presence. At full length, she likely scrapes the ceiling with little effort, but you can only speculate. There’s a sheen to her scales, making them glow and shimmer in a way scales don’t do as you move closer to her. She coils herself so tightly though, all you can see is what she wants you to see. Nothing more, nothing less.

You stop right in front of her. Your mouth opens to speak, but her head, rises towards the ceiling, glaring down at you with deep red eyes. Long, pointed white horns jut out from the top of her head. Short, white ridges go down her spine, though for how far down you couldn’t begin to imagine. Her face looks familiar, trollian in shape with no fangs and a distinct, rounded nose not found in snakes.

_(Hero of Mind.)_

The voice rings between your ears, perfectly clear despite your hearing damage. It’s monstrous yet beautiful - a flute and clarinet overtop the sound of hisses and shrieks that make a cacophonous symphony. It cuts through your body to the core, leaving you unable to speak outside of the weak squeak that escapes your throat. You swallow harshly, looking straight up at her piercing red eyes and nod. “I don’t want to fight you,” you say loudly, hoping she can hear you all the way up there. “I want to speak.”

_(I know you don’t.)_

There’s another pulse of electricity and the ground lurches underneath you. You jerk your head down to find a piece of the floor - rectangular and outlined in bright blue, move up, up towards her face. You stand, frozen in place as the floor levitates, eventually stopping right in front of her face. You straighten your back automatically, trying yet failing to make yourself seem taller. Even with the platform resting at Mnemosyne’s scaly chin, you have to crank your head up just to gaze into her giant, unblinking eyes.

_(Worry not, Witch. I simply see no reason for you to strain your vocal cords during our parlay.)_

A weight drops in your stomach. “You…you knew?”

_(You speak to the denizen of Mind, Witch. Of course I knew.)_

She lets out a low laugh, a deep rumbling from her body that vibrates and echoes across the chamber, yet your platform seems unaffected. Nevertheless, you dig your feet into the platform. Just in case. Falling from this height would be disastrous.

“Ssso you know why I’m here,” you say slowly, unable to stop your hiss. The words sounded stupid coming out of your mouth. Of course she knew why you were here. That’s how the game was set up. You enter. You learn about your land, solve the quests, go through gates. And then end up here, face to face with an oversized naga. “That’ss….good. I think. I need–”

_(What you need to do is make a choice.)_

“I…I what?” You cock your head sideways. “Isssn’t everything about a choice?”

_(You mishear me. A Choice.)_

Now you hear it. The capital letter. The emphasis on the word. It’s not a choice like all the other ones you’ve made in your quests so far, though whether that’s a good or bad thing is still up in the air. You nod in understanding. “Okay. So what isss it? What’ss my Choice?”

Her lips twisted into a smile.

_(Save yourself. Save your friends. Eliminate the true threat looming over your session with an unsavory power only you control, or be the first to succumb to it.)_

You blink harshly as you mentally parse out the wording. Was “it” the threat…or your power? Both? It sounded like it could be both. Or maybe it wasn’t. Either way, there wasn’t much “choice” to it. Succumbing to whatever looming threat she was talking about or whatever power this was wasn’t going to happen.

You look at her in the eye and give a resolute nod. “I accept.”

For the first time since arriving, Mnemosyne closes her eyes. It’s slow, and as the red disappears into white lids, so too does her whole body. You lean forward from your precarious perch, trying to touch her, but only catch air.

The next thing you know, you’re back on the hard floor. You don’t remember being let down at all - if at all - and yet here you are, shuddering on the cold stone floor. Alone.

_(You are the Witch of Mind. Remember that.)_

Mnemosyne’s voice rattles loudly in your head. You whip your head around towards the source, but she’s not there. Instead, you find three - four? Five? Six? The outlines are so hazy it’s hard to count - silhouettes standing away from you. You squint, pushing your glasses directly up to your face in a vain hope to make out what they are.

You miss the arrow until it digs deep into your shoulder.

White hot pain surges through your body and you yelp. A hand scrambles to snatch it out, but catches on nothing. The arrow’s just…gone. And when your hand returns, there’s no teal blood staining your fingers. The only real thing about the whole thing is the sharp stabbing feeling as it crawls down your arm.

For a brief second, you can make them out. Five shadows walk towards you: three feminine and two masculine. All of them a familiar mix of land and seadweller. More importantly, all of them _armed_. A notched bow, a loaded harpoon gun, an over-sized tusk, a flamethrower and an open grimoire. Your _friends_. Attacking _you_.

They blink out of existence as soon as you make them out, but that doesn’t stop the attack. You barely have time to dodge the harpoon towards your stomach before hot flames lick at the back of your legs. Another arrow sinks into your thigh, forcing you down on your knees as the tusk swings in the air uselessly.

You grimace and pull out your acid gun, spraying the large purpleblood near you. Nothing happens. The acid - the strongest acid you could possibly synthesize - sprays into empty air as Glacin blips away and to the side, letting you get a clear look at the final figure. He’s the only one not attacking. He doesn’t even look at you, unlike the other (illusions? Copies?) figures. He looks down in his book, muttering something, and when his eyes glance up towards the ceiling, there’s a wave of darkened energy.

Every figure changes positions. All of them except him. Your stomach drops right as a harpoon grazes your leg.

“Dontoc,” you say, hoping to stop the quivering in your voice. “ _Sss_ top it.”

Nothing registers. There’s no change in his expression, no drooping or fluttering of his oversized fins.

Cold metal pricks the skin on your neck. An arrowhead. Valeba. Clearly aiming to cull, though you weren’t sure if it would actually work. You also weren’t exactly keen on finding out if that were the case.

You glance down at your acid gun. The acid could easily damage him, and he was too wrapped up in controlling everyone else to dodge. It would be an easy mark, actually. Easier than any of the underlings you’ve fought.

But you’d be hurting your friend. Who knows if hurting this version of him would damage the real one? There were plenty of stories you knew where hurting a double hurt the real one. And plenty others where it’d pass through the double harmlessly.

The metal presses deeper into your neck, but no one else fights you. Why would they? You’re incapacitated, on your knees in front of them.

Finally, he looks over at you. Eyes completely black, face expressionless.

“Dontoc. _Pleassssse_. _Sss_ top. I don’t want to fight,” you plead.

The hand holding the book wavers, but nothing else happens. Whatever’s got him is too far gone at this point. You had no choice. You shakily raise your acid gun up at him, but stop at the trigger. No. There’s another way.

You are the Witch of Mind.

You close your eyes. Teal energy sparks and crackles around your body and shoots off in his direction. Weapons clang to the ground all around you. The metal disappears from your neck. You open your eyes to find everyone stopped in their places, backs straight and staring at you, as if waiting for a command. A faint teal aura outlines them all. A horrified thought appears in the back of your mind, but you push it away. There’s no way. There’s no way you managed to affect five different minds so effortlessly at once. But still…you were a scientist. You had to test.

“ _Ss_ tep away,” you command, so softly you’re not even sure the words came out of your throat. Footsteps from behind you move away. You struggle to stand back up. There’s no blood of course, but the pain from being shot burns. As you turn around, the thought returns. The figures that were close to you - Valeba, Aisral, Glacin and Mayola - all of them stepped away from you and just stood. Even Dontoc, whose figure wouldn’t even look at you before, watched with an unfocused gaze. _Waiting_. You were in control now.

You forced yourself to swallow down the rising bile to end this now. Now wasn’t the time.

“Leave. Let me be,” you say. Your voice shakes, and you’re sure your body is too. All of the figures shudder out of view one last time, leaving you alone in the chamber once more. The weapons all fade from view as well, all except the book. Something seems to stick out of it too, a bookmark probably, but you don’t care at this moment.

You sit on the ground, legs pulled as closely to your chest as you could. Tears well up in your eyes and fall freely down your face. The worst was over. You succeeded. There wasn’t a single part of your body not in pain, and you felt gross and sick, but it was _over_.

Hopefully, Mnemosyne was wrong. You never want to use this ability again, and the thought of having to use it again made you nauseous. But she hadn’t been wrong yet. And that scared you more than anything in Sgrub.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr at chuckling-chemist.tumblr.com (assuming Tumblr still exists by the time you read this) or my Twitter @Stormscourge!


End file.
